That escalated quickly.

It was shaping up to be a slow week when it seemed that trying Icelandic yogurt (skyr) was the most exciting thing I did all week. The thrill lay within my lactose intolerance: Is this going to cause gastrointestinal distress? Will it be worth it? (It was delicious.)

Then on Friday night, I started painting the modeling clay tongue that I made earlier in the week. I’d pierced it with two barbells while the clay was still soft. To make painting easier, I removed the jewelry and placed them in one of the wells of my paint tray so that they wouldn’t roll off my adjustable desk. I forgot about this when cleaning up: I dumped the tray in the kitchen sink and washed the leftover paint down the drain, along with the barbells.

I was not high when I did this. Truthfully, I hadn’t realized what I’d done until I was high.

My Pilea Mollis serving Little Shop of Horrors realness.
Continue reading “That escalated quickly.”

Physically distanced adventuring.

Years ago, when I was at the climbing gym with a friend, they suggested that I do an overhanging route next. I tried avoiding it using the excuse, “I’m terrible at those.”

“And that is why you should do them,” was their response. Wow, and I thought my excuse was solid!

Completing an overhanging route at a grade below what I’m typically capable of doing doesn’t fuel my ego in the same way. It’s still fun, but it’s a bonus when you get to be good at something you enjoy doing. I’m not the only one who feels this way; otherwise, competitive sports wouldn’t be a thing. Alas, I am too old and injury-prone to add more awards to my box of equestrian ribbons. I also can’t be spending all my free time training as I sometimes need to use my day off to do things such as visit a Canadian Tire store for some diatomaceous earth and jute, which I did last week.

As much as I mostly enjoy living alone, I’m still finding it challenging to spend the whole day without company. So, the Calgary-based Gator accompanied me to the pest control aisle via WhatsApp. I took photos of some of Canadian Tire’s merchandise and sent it to her, such as a tub of diatomaceous earth. Riveting. A few minutes later, I sent her the squeeze bottle version. I also sent her a photo of one of Canadian Tire’s end caps that displayed bandanas, cowboy hats, and koozies.

I may have crossed a line when I referred to them as Calgary Supplies.

Wait until I tell you guys stories about growing up in Langley, BC.

Isolation has been my motivator for sending my friends photos of the following things:

Continue reading “Physically distanced adventuring.”

Being extra at work.

Dear Mortals,

I’ve been busy. I’ve been busy riding Ponyboy and altering my appearance dramatically. As I stood outside the bike shop gates, ready to ride home, a passerby slowed down, looked at me, and started laughing. I didn’t mind. Interesting response, though.

I’ve also been busy stocking the ET Drawings drawer at work.

It’s obviously the most fun drawer of the shop desk. Over two days, I collected twenty-six drawings of ET from co-workers and a few more from people in my life who exist outside of work. I could say it was “no easy feat” except it was one of the easiest–and most brilliant–things I’ve done so far this year. All I had to do was ask politely, “Could you please draw ET from memory for me?”

Most people didn’t even ask why. This was the why:

Continue reading “Being extra at work.”

Competitive showboating.

Years ago, when I first lived in Victoria, an acquaintance updated his Facebook status to something like, “Come and see me wear a beard of bees in front of the Legislative this Saturday at noon!”

Obviously a joke, except a few days later, he updated his Facebook profile photo. The new picture was of him in front of the Legislative with the promised bee beard. This is probably why our friendship never took off: I had missed out on a life-altering event of his. He could never forgive me.

Of course, there hasn’t been that kind of stuff happening this year. Instead, we have to stay home and watch whatever our streaming services provide us. Netflix just released a docuseries, “We are the Champions” to remind us of when people used to have fun.

Cheese rolling.

Yann accused this of being something I would be into. He is devastatingly wrong. I hate getting injured, and I can’t think of a more promising opportunity for injury than cheese rolling. The last time I fucked myself up, I couldn’t work or ride a bike for two weeks or climb for a month. I can deal with the pain, but the boredom is intolerable.

On the note of Yann being wrong about me, he apologized for buying a full-sized hairdryer to replace the travel-sized one of mine that he broke.

“I don’t care,” I told him.

The new one is hot pink and has a retractable cord that’s already whipped me in the arm. It’s punk.

“Yea, but what if you want to travel with it?”

“Do you think… I am a person who goes travelling with a hairdryer?”

Anyway, it was a gift. I usually let my hair air-dry for three hours instead of blow drying it. I call it paleo hair styling.

The second episode of the docuseries featured a chili pepper eating contest. I could probably chomp down a jalapeño, but I wouldn’t go any further for a cash prize of $1,000. I’m not enough of a masochist.

So, I googled for more unique competitions to determine which ones I’d have a shot at winning.

Continue reading “Competitive showboating.”